


Oh No, He's Hot

by KivaEmber



Series: Wine Cellar [19]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bad Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Flirting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Male!WoL - Freeform, Miqo'te!WoL - Freeform, Post-Stormblood, Romantic Fluff, aymeric's the drunken one this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: “Oh no,” Aymeric muttered quietly, his wine glass listing dangerously in his loosening grip, “He’s handsome.”Lucia, who had been dutifully shadowing him for the first hour of this function, merely slanted a flat, unimpressed stare his way. “Sir, you always think he’s handsome.”Or;Aymeric's the drunken one this time.





	Oh No, He's Hot

When Ala Mhigo and Doma were liberated and started the shaky beginnings of climbing back to their feet, Ishgard rushed to capitalise on the opportunity it offered.

Already embroiled in a political battle to create an Ishgardian Grand Company and allowing the Eorzea Adventurer’s Guild access to the city itself, this was a topic both Houses were relieved to find quick, painless common ground on. Ala Mhigo and Doma were both weak, off-kilter, and _desperate_ for trade to revitalise their damaged infrastructure. In an effort to shed its previous reputation as cold and isolationistic, Ishgard agreed to send aid equal to that of its fellow city states – including Ishgardian engineers and architects skilled in the reconstruction of stonework damaged in battle and fire – and even suggested that such a thing should be celebrated to show solidarity between all parties involved.  A formal function, you could say, hosted by Ishgard with all the city states’ representatives attending to discuss the bright future awaiting Eorzea and its Doman allies.

Some of the old guard grumbled about opening their doors to foreigners, but it was perfect, politically. The smallfolk wished to see Ishgard taking the reins a bit more in regards to this Grand Eorzean Alliance, and the politicians wanted to bolster a government still clawing its way out of a theocracy struggling with an unsustainable class system. Getting ‘first dibs’, so to speak, on Ala Mhigan and Doman trade and diplomacy sounded like a fantastic way to inject some life back in their faltering economy – and a way to procrastinate from the Adventurer Guild Proposal that the Lord Chancellor kept stubbornly advocating for. That was a wall everyone was too exhausted to keep bashing their heads on – including the Lord Chancellor himself.

So, when the proposal – drafted by Minister Artoirel de Fortemps in the House of Lords – was first offered up to the Houses, everyone was so relieved that it wasn’t another rehash of the Grand Company and Adventurer’s discourse that it was passed before an hour had even passed. The invitations were written and sent out in the next.

By the end of the week, the date had been established. A month after the liberation of Ala Mhigo and Doma both, Ishgard will formally host them in the Holy See, along with the other City States, to celebrate their freedom and cement its solidarity with its fellow Eorzeans. All very cooperative and filled with ulterior motives, but one everyone was happy with. To sweeten the deal, the House of Lords managed to secure the Warrior of Light’s attendance by essentially throwing the Lord Chancellor at him and requesting his presence. It was, in short, the perfect arrangement.

Too perfect, really.

 

* * *

 

“Oh no,” Aymeric muttered quietly, his wine glass listing dangerously in his loosening grip, “He’s _handsome_.”

Lucia, who had been dutifully shadowing him for the first hour of this function, merely slanted a flat, unimpressed stare his way. “Sir, you always think he’s handsome.”

“Yes, but…” Aymeric shook himself out of his moment of stunned amazement, managing to catch himself before he dropped his wine all over the floor. He couldn’t look away from what had caught his attention though – there, standing by the grand double doors leading into the hall, Aza stood accompanied by Alisaie and Alphinaud, the three of them fashionably late. Not something that would usually garner such a reaction from him, but.

_Aza_ _wasn’t in armour_.

Aza, who once climbed up a tree and stayed there for four hours, throwing pinecones at anyone brave enough to scale up after him, in an effort to evade Tataru’s determined efforts to dress him in normal, formal attire, _wasn’t in armour_. It was as stunning as him simply striding through the doors naked – and even from across the room, Aymeric could tell that Aza appeared uncomfortably aware of his newfound vulnerability. Alisaie and Alphinaud bracketed him on either side, keeping him in place as they chatted to who Aymeric recognised as the Doman representative, Lord Hien. All of them seemed mildly amused at Aza’s obvious disgruntlement.

Aymeric allowed himself to trail his gaze over his partner, taking in the sleek, form-fitting dark shirt and trousers that hugged every curve of his body. He was always taken aback on how _curvy_ Miqo’te men could be around the hips, and those tight trousers very much emphasised it, showing off those powerful legs in all their shapely glory and hugging the perfect curve of his backsi-

“Sir, you’re staring,” Lucia chimed in.

Aymeric jolted, realising he’d spent the past minute staring, transfixed, at Aza’s backside, and very hurriedly directed his gaze elsewhere, like, hmmm, that chandelier up there. Very nice metalwork. Lovely. “Ah, was I?”

Lucia sighed next to him, sounding fondly amused, “He would probably thank you if you rescued him from his fellow Scions.”

He probably would, especially if Aymeric swooped in only to usher him into a secluded corner to ravish the wits out of him. The fantasy of it teased at him, but he swallowed the urge down, dropping his gaze from the chandelier to Aza again. Lord Hien said something and his partner’s disgruntled expression eased into something like reluctant amusement, the corners of his mouth curving into one of his more beautiful smiles as Lord Hien clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I think it would be best to let him mingle before I monopolise him,” Aymeric said, forcing himself to turn away before he gave in, “I still need to properly greet the Ala Mhigan representative as well. Lucia…?”

“This way, sir,” Lucia said, tilting her head towards where the Ala Mhigans had carved out their own little corner, their standoffishness rivalling that of their Ishgardian neighbours. Lady Lyse, at least, had enough charm and bullheaded friendliness to make up for it, but Aymeric knew that this was going to be a bit of an exhausting night facilitating between two taciturn city states.

But once he was done… Aymeric glanced, briefly, over at his partner. Well, he’ll be able to enjoy more pleasant company.

 

* * *

 

“I feel like I’m going to be backstabbed,” Aza complained, rolling his shoulders as he fought to ignore the itchy feeling between his shoulder blades. He’d been forced to leave his weapon with the guards in the entrance hall – Alphinaud complained he’d made a dramatic scene about it but Aza only (semi-)jokingly threatened the guard with one (1) case of dismemberment if he came back to the priceless blade missing – and without the comforting weight of his armour protecting his squishy, vulnerable body, he felt very… open. Discomforted.

“You are _not_ going to be backstabbed,” Alisaie huffed, “Stop being paranoid.”

“It’s not paranoia if there are people really out to get you,” Aza grumbled, looking about them suspiciously, “I swear, if another Garlean assassin stabs me one more time…”

“It terrifies me how that classes only as a minor inconvenience to you,” Alphinaud said, long desensitised to reports of Aza being stabbed after the fifth time it happened. He was getting jaded far too quickly for someone as of his young years, but Aza supposed it was part of growing up traumatised. “Besides, I’m sure Ser Aymeric has ensured that security is top priority.”

“I, too, have a contingent of faithful shinobi bolstering the defences, though it took a while to convince these Ishgardians to accept it,” Hein added, “A very proud, independent people, they are.”

“Yes, well, they spent the last one thousand years fighting an endless war of attrition by themselves,” Aza muttered, always getting a spark of irrational irritation whenever he thought about the Dragonsong War. It had been such a pointless conflict ignited by petty greed. “The majority of them are still learning how to ask for help after that.”

“Speaking of Ser Aymeric,” Alisaie interjected with a smirk, “I’m surprised at you, Aza.”

“Huh?” Aza blinked at her, “Eh? Why?”

“We’ve arrived and you haven’t _immediately_ abandoned us to leap into his arms,” Alisaie cocked her head to the side, “Like last time.”

“Yes, we didn’t see you for three days after that,” Alphinaud muttered in a disgruntled _sotto voce_.

“Well, last time I hadn’t seen him in a month,” Aza frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, “Now, I saw him literally five hours ago, and will most likely see him again tonight when I crawl into bed. He can keep.”

Hien glanced between them, his gaze shrewd, “Am I led to believe that you and Lord Aymeric are…?”

“Oh, right, I never told you,” Aza said with some surprise. Surprise because, during the long stretches of time in the Steppes and Doma, he and Hien did talk often. The Doman prince was as rambunctious as any adventurer, really, no matter how elegantly he spoke, and Aza wasn’t ashamed to admit that Aymeric was one of the few topics he repeatedly chatted to him about… and yet, neglected to mention the most important thing. Well, Aza was so used to everyone and their damned Chocobo knowing… “Aymeric and myself are together.”

Hien’s eyebrows rose briefly, but he took it all in good humour, smiling broadly at him, “Then congratulations, my friend! When is the wedding?”

“ _Wed-_ ” Aza coughed in surprise, “We’re not- we haven’t thought about that yet!”

“Which is strange, considering how they act,” Alisaie said, smiling wickedly. Aza eyed her in trepidation, “Anyone who didn’t know any better would already assume they’d tied the knot, as it were.”

“You mean they haven’t?” Alphinaud asked with such exaggerated surprise that Aza knew he was faking, “I had assumed…”

“Oh, ha ha ha,” Aza scoffed, “Shut up, all of you.”

“You know,” Hien began in a sly tone, “I have not yet officially introduced myself to your partner-to-be. Perhaps you could facilitate that?”

“It is obvious what you’re doing, Hien, but I don’t care,” Aza sniffed, forcibly pushing past the teasing of _marriage_ , “I’ll be more than happy to help you schmooze with him. I remember him being _very_ impressed with your aerial fighting skills back in Ala Mhigo, so I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

“In that case, if you’re doing that I am going to search for Lyse,” Alisaie said, slanting a glance Alphinaud’s way, “Coming, brother?”

“If I must,” Alphinaud sighed, “I need to speak her in regards to-”

“Oh, no,” Alisaie tutted, “This is going to be a _social_ visit, not ‘barrage her with political things that will fry her brain’ visit.”

“It’s a formal political function, where else would I-”

Hien and Aza watched the twins walk away, squabbling quietly with each other, and shared an amused glance.

“Come on,” Aza said, clasping a hand on Hien’s muscular shoulder and steering him through the crowd, “I think I saw Aymeric lurking over there. Probably fortifying himself with a bit of drink before charming the pants off of everyone.”

“Just to confirm I have everyone’s titles correct, Lord Aymeric is the… Speaker?” Hien hedged, letting himself be steered as he looked about them. The Ishgardian style of celebration was different to the Doman way, and Hien seemed attentive and interested in everything occurring around him, shrewdly logging details and mannerisms away. It was good, really. For Doma to form strong ties with its new Eorzean allies, it needed a leader that was flexible and open-minded.

“Yup. He’s the Speaker of the House of Lords and Lord Commander of the Temple Knights,” Aza smiled wryly, “He’s a bit of an overachiever and thrives off of stress, I guess.”

“I believe I remember him, somewhat, from Ala Mhigo,” Hein continued thoughtfully, “Tall Elezen, dark hair, blue styled armour?”

“Devastatingly handsome?” Aza added wickedly, “Yeah, that’s him. Speak to him?”

“We didn’t exchange words,” Hein said, “Not long after breaching the gates he charged after you into the palace.”

Oh, right, Aza remembered that. Aymeric actually caught up to him after the Magitek-Scorpion battle which had been mildly terrifying at the time. Aza had been determined to carve a safe, Garlean-free path for the remainder of the invasion force (Aymeric) so he remembered having a bit of a mad sprint to keep ahead of him, much to his party’s consternation. It had been such an exhausting, filthy day…

“Yeah, he likes keeping me on my toes like that,” Aza grumbled, frowning as they drifted past the wine table. He suppressed the urge to twitch when Hien cheerfully accepted a glass of wine from the servant manning it, shoving his hands deep into his pockets to hold back on snatching the glass out of Hien’s hand. While he got away with that behaviour with Aymeric and the Scions, he was aware that his friendship with Hien was still new and had not yet informed him of all of his crazy quirks.

Hien glanced over at him, taking in his expression, and without hesitation switched the topic, “I wish I was warned just how cold this land is,” he sighed, “I thought the Steppes brisk, but this place has a chill that bites into your bones.”

“Hm, yeah, if you’re not used to it, it can catch you off guard,” Aza said. When he’d first came to Coerthas, he’d spent the entire time shivering out of his skin – until he got the idea to stuff his armour full of fire shards. Stupid, because all they needed was an errant spark of aether to combust, but gods, it had been worth it for the toasty warmth they’d given him. Now the cold barely bothered him, “It’s part of the reason they’re so eager to make friends with everyone now that the war’s ended, from what I understand. They’re anticipating a population boom but their agriculture only _just_ barely sustains what they currently have.”

“Doma has plenty of fertile land yet untouched,” Hien admitted thoughtfully, “Though it would take us some time to develop enough to _export_ food.”

“I guess that’s what you’ll be hashing out with Aymeric,” Aza said, quickly losing interest in the conversation. He knew enough about politics to sort of understand where things were heading and why city states did things, but he hated discussing them and thinking about it because it made his head hurt. Just point him towards something that needed punching, please. He tried to shift the topic towards something _mildly_ interesting; “Ishgard will probably try to ply you with cannons and armour. They’ve got a special way of smithing that makes their chainmail lighter without impacting the structural integrity. Think it was to help dragoons with their jumps.”

“Really?” Hien perked in open interest, “Chainmail is very good but far too heavy for a shinobi to effectively do their duties, so they tend to do without. To have a lighter version without sacrificing protection…”

“Aza, are you _negotiating_ for me?”

Aza quickly turned towards the voice, expression brightening at seeing Aymeric slip out of the crowd with Lucia hot on his heels. As usual his partner looked _stunning_ and well-put together, even if he did look a little weary around the edges. No doubt he’d been spending the past hour doing his rotation through all the relevant circles and was thoroughly wiped from it.

“I’m just buttering Hien up for you,” Aza returned cheekily, his tail curving upwards in pleasure as he turned to his Doman friend, “Hien, this is the Lord Chancellor, Speaker of the House of Lords and Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Ser Aymeric de Borel,” he gestured carelessly back at Hien, “Aymeric, this is Hien.”

“I can clearly see a bias here,” Hien drawled in good humour, not at all ruffled at his lacklustre introduction. His turned to face Aymeric fully, his mouth curving into a friendly grin as he gave a polite, Doman-style bow, “Lord Aymeric, it is a pleasure to finally meet the one the Warrior of Light holds in such high esteem. He has spoken often and well of you.”

“Has he?” Aymeric glanced at Aza, openly amused, “You’ve been singing my praises to future allies?”

“I never miss an opportunity to brag about you to people,” Aza said shamelessly, “It makes a statement, sort of like how a dog pisses on a tree. Stops awkward come ons from other people and all that.”

“That…” Hien started, looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh, “…is one way of putting it?”

“Very romantic,” Lucia muttered in a low deadpan.

“It’s better than literally pissing on me to mark territory, I suppose,” Aymeric said dryly.

“What?” Aza frowned, “I thought it expressed what I meant quite well.”

“Usually it’s best to use phrasing that doesn’t include urine,” Hien coughed, quickly hiding his growing grin behind his wineglass, “Or so I am led to believe when it comes to romantic compliments.”

“It’s not the worst one he’s given me,” Aymeric said, his tone lilting teasingly, “I do recall one time, where he said-”

Aza made a sharp noise, thwacking his partner’s thigh with his tail, “Oi, _no_. You _swore_ you’d forget about that!”

His partner paused, his eyes bright with mischief, “Did I? Hmm, I don’t remember promising that...”

“Oh?” Aza rocked back on his heels, his tone turning dangerously sweet, “Then perhaps _I_ won’t _remember_ to visit you tonight after this function. How about that?”

There was a very brief moment of silence.

“Did I say I didn’t remember that promise? I meant I did remember it,” Aymeric said quickly, flashing a brilliant smile that he only brought out when trying to charm his way out of trouble, “I disavow any knowledge of that, ah, particular incident.”

“Hmm…” Aza drew out the noise, suppressing a smirk when he noticed Aymeric almost fidgeting at his delayed response. It was maybe a little mean to tease his partner like this, but he really liked the way he would peek at him from beneath his eyelashes whenever he tried to charm him, mouth curved into the smallest of contrite smiles and, _mmm_ , really, if they weren’t in the middle of a crowded hall right now… “I’m not sure if you’re being sincere, handsome.”

“I’m being _very_ sincere,” Aymeric returned, his voice lowering slightly – almost edging on a purr – and Aza felt his pulse pick up, his tail curving up a little more as he unconsciously leaned in slightly, hypnotised by the devious little flirt; “If you want, I’ll demonstrate how muc-”

“Sir,” Lucia prompted mildly, cutting into the moment and making the both of them jolt, “Lord Hien…?”

Oh. Right. Aza… forgot about him.

Aymeric quickly turned back to Hein, masterfully schooling his expression into one of polite innocence. How he could do that without looking even the slightest bit embarrassed, Aza had no clue and he was deeply envious of the skill. He could feel his cheeks starting to turn red and he focused very hard on Hien’s knees, his pulse still racing a little.

“Apologies for getting side-tracked,” his partner said without so much as a shred of shame, “You were saying…?”

Hien, mercifully, allowed the subject change, and when Aza peeked up at him, realised with a sinking feeling that he had the same shite-eating grin he had before the Nadaam, “How the Warrior of Light spoke oft and well of you,” he said, then continued in an innocent tone equal to Aymeric’s, “Though, from the sounds of it, perhaps it was because he missed you terribly when accompanying myself through Othard. For which I apologise, as I know better than most how unpleasant homesickness can be.”

Okay, no, Hien _wasn’t_ merciful, the little _asshole_.

“I-I wasn’t _homesick_ ,” Aza blurted, horribly aware his face was probably an embarrassing shade of bright red at this point, “I was, um, _person_ sick, maybe.”

“’Personsick’,” Aymeric repeated slowly.

“The unflattering terms continue,” Hien said teasingly.

“They’re not _unflat-_ ” Aza cut himself off, flustered, and glanced over at Lucia who was admirably keeping a neutral expression, “Lucia, help me out here!”

“I can’t save hopeless causes,” she said, utterly straight-faced.

“Oh,” Hien whistled quietly, “Savage.”

“You’re all bullies,” Aza grouched, crossing his arms over his chest and openly sulking, “I can be romantic and charming when I feel like it.”

“So, you’re saying you’re intentionally being unflattering?” Hien asked with mock-innocence.

“Now, now, Aza speaks the truth,” Aymeric cut in, “He can be very charming when the mood strikes him.”

“Thank you,” Aza sniffed, though he did eye his partner a little suspiciously. His partner’s smile was full of mischief and he didn’t trust it one bit.

“Granted,” Aymeric continued, “It is usually in the early hours, where he is as affectionate as-”

“If you say kitten, I will take a vow of chastity here and now,” Aza said flatly.

“-a very adult, person-shaped lover,” Aymeric finished, a tad awkwardly.

Quietly, Aza heard Lucia mutter, “By the Fury,” under her breath. He felt for her, really.

“It’s not a romantic night for either of you, is it?” Hien asked mildly.

“I think he’s drunk, because he’s usually a lot smoother than that,” Aza said with growing amusement, “Aymeric, how much have you had?”

“Not a lot,” Aymeric said quickly, “Perhaps a few more than usual when meeting the Ala Mhigans.”

“He drank almost a whole wine bottle in the span of an hour,” Lucia piped up.

Aymeric turned to his trusted lieutenant with an expression of betrayal, “Lucia, how could you?”

“Wow, okay,” Aza said, genuinely surprised. Ishgardian wine was very potent, something Aza learned the hard way when he did that stupid, drunken public love confession. Almost two bottles of wine worth of alcohol as all it took to utterly wreck him, so for Aymeric to be so _eloquent_ when he was probably teetering the line of _very drunk_ was… terrifyingly impressive, “Is that why you’re shepherding him, Lucia?”

“I was hoping to give him to you, actually,” Lucia said, “But then I remembered we hadn’t introduced ourselves to the Doman representative.”

“And we have been introduced,” Hien said quickly, giving his wine glass a bit of a look as if trying to gauge how strong the wine actually was. Aza’ll let him discover that on his own, “I, myself, need to speak with my Ala Mhigan friends.”

“I can introduce you,” Lucia offered quickly, “Sir, Aza.”

“What-” Aymeric began, looking a little puzzled – but it was too late. Hien quickly gave his goodbyes and Lucia led him into the crowd, leaving Aza and Aymeric behind.

“Lucia dumped you,” Aza started to laugh, reaching out to pat Aymeric’s arm when the man continued to stare in confusion at where his lieutenant literally escaped him with Hien in tow, “You’re a menace when drunk, c’mon.”

“You didn’t even realise until halfway into our conversation,” Aymeric muttered, and now that Aza was paying attention, he was speaking very carefully and a tad slower than usual to hide any slurring or stumbling over his words. Very clever and spoke volumes of his alcohol tolerance, but now that Aza was looking, it was very clear that he was either very tipsy, or just plain drunk.

“That’s because I was distracted by you trying to seduce me, you silly man,” Aza hummed, pressing a hand against Aymeric’s lower back and urging him on. They carefully made their way through the crowd to a rather secluded corner, half-hidden by a pillar.

“Let’s stay here until you sober up a bit,” he said, “I can grab you some water, hold on-”

“No, it’s fine,” Aymeric gave himself a little shake and leaned against the pillar in a shocking display of casualness that he rarely did in public. Aza studied him, taking in the slightly flushed cheeks, his heavy-lidded dark eyes, the way his partner was gazing at him with a look that… hmm… “Your company is all I want at the moment.”

“Now that’s a lot smoother than before,” Aza said, humouring him. Aymeric was devilishly attractive when tipsy, he thought with some dismay, but he was leery of taking advantage. It was one thing for drunken kisses and fooling around in the comfort of Aymeric’s home, but here in a public function half-hidden behind a pillar in a crowded hall was something else entirely. Aymeric may think it a pleasing idea right now, but afterwards… “Why did you drink so much? You’re normally very careful at these things.”

“Hmm…” Aymeric closed his eyes, lifting a hand to his forehead, “The Ala Mhigans were… trying, in a way,” he admitted, his voice dropping into a low, purring murmur. Ah, there’s the slight slurring, “And I was trying to distract myself from something.”

“Distract?” Aza prompted when Aymeric didn’t continue. He felt concern puncture through his amusement, “Is something the matter, handsome? Do I need to beat someone up for you?”

Aymeric laughed, lowering his hand, “No, no, nothing like that. I was… I notice you don’t have your armour today.”

Aza blinked at the non-sequitur, “Uh, yeah? I got ambushed and they made me wear this.”

It had been a terrible battle, one that he lost because Crisp fought dirty and was not afraid to cast a sleep spell on a trusted friend and party member just because she found it funny. When he woke up from his magic-induced nap, he found himself in these clothes with Crisp saying that the only way he’d get his armour back was if he attended this function for at least two hours. He was going to piss in a bottle and pass it off as beer to her when he next got the chance, the little…

“It looks nice,” Aymeric said, his gaze slowly trailing over his body, “Very nice.”

“Oh?” Aza… fidgeted, feeling oddly flustered about the compliment. Lots of people said he looked nice, but when Aymeric did it, combined with _that_ look… “What do you like about it?”

“Very form-fitting,” Aymeric replied, definitely purring now, “Especially on the backside.”

“You’ve been staring at my ass?” Aza coughed out a laugh at that, “Aymeric, you _pervert_.”

“I like it very much,” he said shamelessly, not at all bothered, “It took a lot of effort to look away, and not whisk you away to ravish you behind a pillar like… hm, like this, I suppose.”

“And people say _Miqo’te_ are the frisky ones,” Aza huffed, “Clearly they never met you Ishgardians when making that stereotype.”

“It may just be me,” Aymeric admitted with a smile, “You simply grow handsomer each time I look at you, Aza. I’m simply too weak to resis-”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Aza waved his hands, and Aymeric obediently quietened, “You sap. You’re drunk.”

“Mmhm, I am,” Aymeric said agreeably.

“So, sadly, no ravishing, if only for my own peace of mind,” Aza sighed, “But later…” he paused, biting his bottom lip briefly. Aymeric’s gaze focused on his mouth with such intent Aza found it difficult to resist himself, “ _Later_ ,” he stressed, “When you’re a little soberer, and we’re in bed, we’ll… do something special.”

“Special?” Aymeric asked, his voice husky.

“Yup, special,” Aza smirked, letting his hips sway slightly, his tail flicking playfully from side to side, “I’ll let you imagine what… but for now, I want you to sober up a little and finish up tonight, okay?”

Aymeric was quiet for a moment, desire clear in his expression, but he sighed and straightened up from his slouch against the pillar, “Alright. I agree to that.”

“Good, okay,” Aza patted his hip, “Then let’s get you a glass of water, maybe a walk outside.”

Aymeric just hummed. Aza had to shake his head in disbelief. This man, honestly, he would’ve thought he’d know better.  

“Remember, _later_ ,” Aza murmured to him, giving him a friendly pat on the backside before moving away, “Now let’s go, handsome, before you cause more trouble.”

“Yes, dear,” Aymeric said in open amusement, obediently following him back out onto the floor.

Honestly, and people thought _Aymeric_ was the reasonable one in this relationship.   

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a dumb idea I got when talking to an FC mate of mine because I finally changed Aza's glam. For those curious it's the Amenous gambison (dyed jet black) with taoist trousers (dyed slate grey) with those long boots with the lovely heels. I would screenshot but sadly my computer is being a bit troublesome with screencaps. One day...! But yes, it's all sleek and I noticed the trousers really hugged his butt and the gamibon looks very tight over the chest too sooooooo...
> 
> Anyways, please comment/kudos if you liked!


End file.
